Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1887-03-27

| heuOSn SJrOue mOOQllV along, Win MIS-
hands deep in his pockets, his hat down
over his eyes. and but dimly conscious
that he was going in the direction of the
wharf and from there on out to the
Georges-where ne might just as we'll be
under the waves as on them-when O lit
tie hand was laid on his arm, and the
sweetest voice in the world, as it seemed
to him, said in tone OF playful reproach:
"Why, Reuben! You would pass me
without even speaking, would youW
He raised his eyes to her dear face and
replied, chokingly:
"That's what your father says must"
The girl started, as if she had received
a blow, and turned pale. For a moment
botn were silent. Then Reuben asked, in
a tone OF appeal and tenderness that
went straight to her heart:
| And whatdO you say, Elsie?"
''Just what | have said to you before,
Reuben" she replied promptly and firmly,
with the flush coming back to her cheeks
and deepening there, "thatI love you and
| Will never love body else"
"And you'll wait for me to get little
ahead in the world, won't you, Elsie?'
81 will wait, not for little, but as long
as need be, not for you to get ahead. but
for poor, dear, obstinate old papa to
| change his mind and say yes"
Aud so it was settled between them,
| with much more Of lovers talk and
pledges and waking dreams of the future
that it is not necessary 10 recapltulate,
| for they were the same in their essence
| as those that lovers have been thinking,
writing, saying, signing and singing
since love began.
And when, the next morning, Reuben
sailed away for those deadly banks that
are so often and aptly characterized as
| "UlOucester's Graveyard" he went with
| n much lighter and more hopeful heart
than upon the preceding evening he
thought he would ever have again. He
| sailed on the schooner Sam johnson, 30
| named in honor Of himself by Capt.
Samuel johnson, who bum her, and from
whom her present skipper-Reuben's
cousin-Capt. JOhnathan Dali, pur-
chased her.
The captains along the Massachusetts
coast are many. Reuben hoped to be one
of them some day. Indeed, alter that
parting interview with Elsie, he telt that
| it was quite impossible that he should
not be one right speedily. But the way
to skipper's position by the line OF pro-
motion upon which he was started Is, as
he we'll knew, long and hard one. Sc
we're toll and small gains, privatIon and
exposure in place where death bats his
trap with mems daily bread, such would
have to be the Ordeals through whic b he
would have to pass to win his captaincy
and Elsie.
On the Georges Banks, even in the
calmest weather, the ground swell is very
great, angry chopping seas are frequent,
aud in storms the tossing OF the gigantic
pillows becomes terrific. But the waves
must run ''mountain high" to deter the
hardy fisherman from going out in his
frail ''dory" to lay down his trawls-lOng
lines carrying hundreds of baited hooks,
disposed at short distances along them
or to take them up weighted with their
heavy catch of cod and halibut. This is
winter work. The cold is enough to chill
the marrow in ones bones, the toll is
mercilessly hard, and it is all done under
the shadow of death.
Often when the fisherman is out in his
''dory," beyond hail of his vessel, a heavy
fog settles down over everything, vapor-
Gus pail, so thick that it deadens not
sight only but sound also. 1t is a white
darkness, so lmpenetrabIe as to be bar
rier even to hope. The doomed man
caught out in it is likely to lose wholly his
sense of direction. He shouts until his
lips are parched and his throat dry, in
vain expectation OF hearing some guiding
response from vessel; he rows, until his
bloodshot eyes are starting from their
sockets and his muscles be-
come powerless, in futile search
for the vessel he may see no
more; farther and farther the cruel
fate that sports with his agony lures him
out on the waste OF waters, from which he
comes back never again. Or, perchance,
in the night, sudden storm springs up
and the fishing smacks drag their
anchors, for the ground is not good there
for holding, and when morning dawns
again. TWO OF them, with all the lives
aboard, are missing. Hurled together by
the waves they have crushed each other
like egg shells, and the despairing death
cries OF their victims have been unheard,
In the shriekings OF the gale, by any hu-
man ears, their struggles unseen save
by the All Powerful, whe sees and saves
not.